


Ambrosia from Nothing

by ThunderCant



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Biting, Blood, Bondage, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 05:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18088499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderCant/pseuds/ThunderCant
Summary: Oh, it’s not in his nature to deny pleasure, especially when pleasure’s so easy to take.





	Ambrosia from Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> I have a titty kink, what more can I say.

There’s a part of him, deep inside, that knows it isn’t fair to take out everything that happened on Xemnas.

Xemnas isn’t exactly Terra, who left him scarred and down an eye, but he’s not exactly Xehanort, bright and blisteringly reckless, either. He’s some muted, pastel fusion of the two, with all their qualities twisted together to make someone uncertain of who- or indeed what- he is.

It’s fascinating to watch him navigate the world. His monologues are poetic and pretentious, even though Xigbar is convinced it’s just a front; a way for Xemnas to talk through all the thoughts clashing inside his brain. He’s much more interesting away from that podium, with all the airs thrown aside like the garbage they are.

So no, Xemnas isn’t at fault for the past.

But god, if it isn’t striking when it catches up with him.

Xemnas is pinned down by dark thorns, hair splayed out like a moonlit halo, chest straining up like enough effort will free him. His legs are tied tighter, knees up, feet flat against the mattress, because Xigbar’s been on the end of Xemnas’ kicks and they aren’t pleasant. It’s why his pants are still on, even if his coat’s torn open. He really doesn’t want to risk getting his skull smashed in if the big guy has second thoughts.

He sits on Xemnas’ stomach, spreading his fingers over the bigger man’s shoulders, taking a moment to appreciate the whole picture. The Old Coot had never looked all that fussy about being chained up, but Xemnas struggles and strains. Always torn between the faint memory of enjoying this sort of play and being desperate to stay in control.

“Hey,” says Xigbar, brushing one of his hands up to Xemnas’ jaw, “Chill out, pretty boy.”

Xemnas glares at him.

“C’mon, you know I won’t hurt you. Not unless you want me to,” he says, flashing his teeth, “so let me enjoy the view, huh? We’re all alone up here.”

“I don’t think,” he says, “you need to tie me up to, ahem, _enjoy the view._ ”

Xigbar’s sure he’d be making quotes if his hands weren’t wrapped up. As it is, Xemnas is just staring at him, jaw tight and muscles flexing.

“Eh, I like this perch. Pretty comfy.” He wriggles just to prove a point, getting comfortable on top of his boss. It’s not like he’s lying, after all- whatever could be said for his component parts, Xemnas is very good looking, and even better when he’s tied up and pouting. Doubly so now that he’s taken to eating properly, and there’s a softness between Xigbar’s ass and the other man’s muscles. “How many people get to see you like this, anyway?”

That makes him look away. Xigbar can feel the warmth bubble up through his skin. Xigbar thinks that whoever is lucky enough- or stupid enough- to get the superior tied up underneath them should count themselves blessed. It’s rare enough to catch him in the moments where he’s flustered and unsure, never mind this submission.

“It’s a shame, really,” he says, slowly dragging his hand down from Xemnas’ jaw to his neck, thumbing over his pulse, “that we don’t get a whole lotta chances to hang out like this.” He chuckles a little at the pun. “Remember back at the castle? You’d kill me if I tried something.”

“I still might.” Xemnas grumbles. It makes his pulse flutter. His cold, theatrical façade is starting to give way to something deliciously human, chemicals from times long forgotten that force him to respond to a predator at his throat. “You know as well as I do-“

“Yeah, yeah,” Xigbar waves his other hand dismissively, tightening around his throat enough to make Xemnas’ breath hitch. “I know.” He rests his other hand on his collar bone, dancing along the sharp edge. There’s an interesting feeling, between the hard planes where his bones jut out and the sudden _pillowy_ nature of his chest. Touching it fills him with the same sort of pleasure he thinks others might get from watching cats spread their claws. Flesh sinks under his fingertips, and that draws out a sharp, quiet gasp from the other man.

Xigbar leaves him for a moment, tugging his gloves off with his teeth. They land with a soft ‘slap’, and before Xemnas can chide him, he dives back in. He threads his bony, scarred fingers through Xemnas’ shaggy hair and pulls, savouring the softness against his skin and the harsh cry it draws from the other man. His breaths puff out, hard enough for his heart to hammer against Xigbar’s lips as he mouthed at his throat. God, he’d always loved doing this to people; having them pinned down like butterflies in a museum, and his teeth were the tools of the trade.

It's even better when it’s someone like the superior, someone who never wants to let go of their composure and control. He bites down.

“Ack!”

And if that isn’t his favourite noise. He bites harder until he feels the flesh give way, muscles tightening under him as his boss strains, trying to buck him off, absolutely blind to how it’s making the wound worse.

He pulls off, admiring the hot, bright trail of blood dripping down Xemnas’ throat. The bright eyes, like a sunset searing over the horizon, staring him down, blown out against his pretty, dark skin. Xigbar’s lips are wet with it.

“First blood,” he quips, massaging the bite and resting his other hand on his pec, “I’d rather eat something else though.”

A brush over a nipple and Xemnas jerks, again, snapping his mouth shut. He’s so _soft_ in his chest, soft as any woman. Absolutely delicious.

He pinches, hard, and delights in the twitching body beneath him. Xemnas is losing himself in sensations, sore neck, sensitive chest, arms and legs probably going numb from the restraints.

He can’t resist digging his teeth in again, pulling out those sharp little moans again and again. It’s like playing with elastic, pulling his boss taut with bites and letting him slack when he rubs, soothingly, on his chest. Even as he exposes his neck. Willing to be hurt.

Xemnas is panting, head lolled to the side, red dripping down him like a necktie falling off. His pupils are dilated, almost enough to hide the gold, and combined with the way his eyes are fluttering closed, he looks hypnotised. Submissive, even. A prey animal playing dead in the hopes that it won’t be gutted.

Perfect.

He moves slowly now, trailing blood and spit down his chest as he leaves kisses on his collarbone, running his hands up Xemnas’ ribcage, humming something tuneless. The vibrations bring forth more of those noises that he loves so much. He plants a final kiss right over Xemnas’ heart- the physical one- that’s pounding away, fast and fierce.

And then he moves his mouth over a nipple and sucks.

It’s like someone rammed steel into Xemnas’ spine, the way he clenches with each lick and nibble. Xigbar has to wonder what part _this_ came from, this sensitive, heavy chest. It would certainly have suited Terra, the yielding flesh suiting his sweet and naïve nature.

But god, he prefers it on Xemnas.

The nipple is hard in his mouth, warm and pleasant, happy to respond to the attention. Never mind how Xemnas was moaning, quietly, at the sensations. Xigbar squeezes his chest and feels something silky and light and sweet hit his tongue.

Xemnas stops moving. Xigbar lifts his head, brushing a hand along his jaw. Xemnas’ hair is stuck to his face, chest damp with sweat. He’s leaking milk, and it collects in the divets of his body.

He looks like he’s passed out, except that his eyes are open and moving. He hardly seems to realise that Xigbar’s touching his face, dancing up and down his lips, occasionally dipping to the bloody mess on his throat. He startles, finally fixing his gaze on Xigbar again, swallowing hard. He looks beautiful. Vulnerable.

Xigbar presses their lips together, enjoying how slack and warm his mouth is. He moves them together, rubbing, never giving Xemnas a moment to catch himself. It’s in spaces like this where he becomes more than a sum of his parts, uniquely breathtaking, like a valley cut by water.

He lets his hands rest back on his chest. Dragging through the milk. A curious feature, though definitely not unwelcome. His boss is so full of surprises that the scientist in Xigbar can’t help but dig and dig and dig until he’s nothing but a specimen, laid out on a table, guts sprawling and only alive through sheer force of will.

It’s a shame, he thinks, that there’s still a gentle part of him that values his boss for who he _is_ , rather than just as part of a plan.

Ah, but that line of thought is a moodkiller. Xemnas is starting to gather himself again, ready to be sharp and dismissive and put-together.

And sure, there’s a certain appeal to him like that. But there’s far more appeal in this; when he’s knocked off his pedestal and cowed under a strong hand, delicious and soft and ripe for the taking. Like a prized cow, though never sent to show- no, Xigbar’s certain that invited any other members to join in would be pushing it.

He returns to his wellspring, closing around it, and drinking his fill.


End file.
